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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692520">Yes, Sir</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813'>GoldenTruth813</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Facials, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Office Sex, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Top Keith (Voltron), Uniform Kink, authority kink, kink done soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:36:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“How would you like it if I fucked you while I wore this?” Keith asks, smoothing a hand down the tailored uniform jacket, purposely giving one of the buttons a little twist. </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Keith.” </p><p>Shiro’s so hard now there’s a wet spot staining his sweats. Keith knows he’s landed in the sweet spot.</p><p>“Not Keith, Sir.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bottom Shiro Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yes, Sir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you starlitruns for listening to me scream about this every day while I wrote it and whiskeyandwildflower for being an amazing beta. &lt;3</p><p>This fic sprung up when I had the thoough "Oh what if Shiro saw Keith teaching and got a hard on" and basically spiraled. Whoops.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keith pinches the bridge of his nose, biting back a sigh. He’s been running drills with the cadets for damn near two hours now and at least half of them still haven’t got the basics down yet. It’s not Keith’s fault since he doesn’t normally teach physical education—he doesn’t normally teach anything. Encouraging cadets and shaping the minds of the future had always been Shiro’s thing. </p><p>He took over the class last week when the Senior Officer who normally taught this class came down with a nasty stomach flu. Technically, they’d asked Shiro first because everyone asked Shiro to take over anything that someone else couldn’t handle. Shiro looked like he would say yes too, despite already covering three classes that weren’t his own this month alone. Keith had stepped in before Shiro overcommitted himself and ended up in the hospital. Iverson hadn’t looked too excited, but the sheer relief in Shiro’s eyes as he’d mouthed <i>thank you</i> were more than worth putting himself outside of his comfort zone. </p><p>Post-war they’d both been shoved into bureaucratic roles they hated. A year later Shiro had finally confessed as much which had been a relief to Keith, whose reasons for staying on in an official capacity were at least ninety percent because of his desire to make sure Shiro didn’t make himself sick doing everything for everyone alone. That, and after spending years crossing the galaxy to find Shiro he wasn’t about to leave him now, even if bureaucracy made Keith want to stab himself with his blade sometimes because it was so goddamn boring. </p><p>Neither of them has to do that now, thankfully. Shiro teaches because he’s damn good at it and actually likes it. It makes sense to Keith since one of Shiro’s greatest assets as a leader has always been inspiring others to find their own greatness. Plus, working with the Garrison means Shiro also still gets to run sims and fly. He calls it hands-on teaching, but Keith knows he’s really just showing off for the wide-eyed cadets who can’t believe the former Black Paladin and Captain of Atlas is their flight instructor. </p><p>It’s low enough stakes that Shiro no longer has tremors from stress, but close enough to the action that he doesn’t have some ridiculous guilt complex about abandoning the Garrison or Earth during their time of need. Plus Keith made sure full use of the hovercrafts and jets on his days off was written into Shiro’s contract. It’s been good for Shiro, and what’s good for Shiro is good for Keith, who doesn’t have any official title but spends a lot of his time hanging around in the back of Shiro’s classes or tinkering in Hunk and Pidge’s secret laboratory. Hunk says it’s not a secret laboratory but since the access is restricted to the highest security clearance, Keith’s going to keep on calling it that. Technically speaking, without an official title Keith’s not actually supposed to be in Shiro’s classroom or the lab, but no one has the balls to tell the Black Paladin and Defender of the Universe that, and for once in his life Keith is not above using clout to get what he wants—which includes being close to Shiro and his friends while he tries to figure out what the hell he wants to do with the rest of his life. </p><p>He knows Shiro won’t teach forever. As much as he loves some parts of the job, Keith sees a far-off look in his eyes sometimes—sees the way Shiro’s fingers twitch on the gearshift before he takes flight. Shiro was born to be an explorer, not stuck on Earth grading tests and dealing with standardized testing. As much as he loves encouraging the kids, it’s not his passion and he and Keith both know this is only temporary—until they both feel like Earth and the coalition is stable enough for them to fuck off without feeling guilty. Not that Keith has any guilt about the idea, but he knows Shiro shoulders responsibilities that are not his own and after everything Shiro has done for the universe—for Keith—this is one burden Keith can share with him. </p><p>For his own part, Keith doesn’t have a goddamn clue what he wants to do, but since they just won an intergalactic space war less than three years ago and are still settling into a time of peace, he’s pretty sure he’s allowed some time to just fuck around and figure out what he wants from his future. Lance says he’s wasting his potential but as far as Keith is concerned he’s spent his entire life fighting in some way or another, and so what if his biggest life goals involve Shiro and their very soft bed, he’s fucking entitled to his small dreams. Shiro’s all he’s ever wanted anyway. As long as Keith’s got him at his side, he can be happy anywhere. Sometimes he thinks about a future where they take off into the stars and never come back, but for now his home is here on Earth with Shiro and that’s just fine with him. </p><p>Teaching isn’t something Keith ever thought he would do, but here he is, and he’s determined to make the best of it even if he’s privately sure it’s something he never wants to do again. The group of groups of cadets he has today has been by far the worst—insolent, distracted, and untrained. Keith can’t help but wonder if he was this much of a pain in the ass when he was at the Garrison. </p><p>“At attention, Smith.”</p><p>Smith’s eyes widen, and he straightens up so fast Keith nearly laughs. It’s only the sound of the back door creaking as it opens and the sight of a familiar head of silver hair that stops him. Right. He’s the instructor here. He can do this. </p><p>He spares one smile at Shiro who is trying to slide along the back wall and into Keith’s class unnoticed, as if anyone as stunningly handsome or as big as Shiro could ever be anywhere and not be noticed. Sure enough, every Cadet swivels their head towards Shiro, more than one of them whispering things like <i>Is he really dating Kogane?</i> or <i>Wow, it’s really him.</i>. </p><p>Keith can’t blame them. He feels the same wide-eyed awe and admiration every time he looks at Shiro too. It’s been nearly four months since Shiro started teaching and the novelty has not yet worn off. Everywhere he goes the cadets seek him out for advice or just to talk. He’s beloved and easily the most popular instructor on campus. The other instructors are so jealous, but Keith—he’s proud as fuck. </p><p>He’s also close to losing his mind with his cadets’ inability to pay attention today. </p><p>“That’s it, we’re doing one final spar before class ends. I want you all to show me exactly what you’ve learned today. There’s no shame in needing to yield if you feel outmatched, but never give up just because it’s hard.”</p><p>Keith claps his hands. “Move it.”</p><p>He doesn’t let himself glance at Shiro again, knowing he  will be as distracted as his students if he does. Thankfully, something in his tone must’ve been stern enough to work because the cadets pair up quickly without having to be told a second time. Then they begin to spar, which should be a good thing since it’s exactly what Keith asked, but instead makes Keith want to bang his head into the wall. Instead of using any of the half a dozen moves he demonstrated earlier, they’re all just shoving and pushing each other. There’s even a pair of boys in the corner who appear to be having some sort of weird slap tickle fight that Keith doesn’t know how to unpack. </p><p>“Stop, stop,” Keith yells, hands on his hips as he eyes the chaos in front of him. “Where the fuck is your discipline and focus?”</p><p>He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to say <i>fuck</i> while teaching, but there’s no one to call him on it besides Shiro, and he would never rat Keith out. Besides, even if one of the cadets decided to mention it to Iverson, they can’t write him up if he doesn’t actually work for the Garrison. </p><p>“Patience yields focus,” Keith intones, moving his hands behind his back as he paces across the mat. He’s pretty sure if he looked in the back corner Shiro would be smirking at Keith stealing that particular catchphrase, but Keith doesn’t look because he refuses to be distracted by Shiro’s presence.</p><p>One of the kids in the back—Jones, if Keith’s not mistaken—snorts. </p><p>“You have something you’d like to share with the class, Jones?”</p><p>The kid doesn’t even flinch, shoving his hands into his Garrison-issued sweats and shrugging. “You don’t need patience, Sir. You just need to be faster and stronger than your opponent and boom.” He spreads his hands in the air for extra drama and several of his friends make an impressed sound. </p><p>Keith is not impressed. </p><p>“To the front of the class, Jones. You’re going to spar.”</p><p>Jones saunters through the other cadets who part easily for him as he makes his way to the front. “And who exactly am I going to spar?”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>There’s a rumble of surprise which Keith ignores in favor of starting to undo the top few buttons of his uniform. Why on Earth Keith has to wear a full dress uniform to teach sparring is beyond him. He saved the universe, for fuck’s sake. He should be allowed to wear sweats like the cadets, but it was wear this or risk Iverson asking Shiro again. It’s stupid and impractical and makes Keith’s neck itch. Then again, the Garrison is full of stupid rules. Like no cursing in class. The only upside to being the teacher is at least now when Keith breaks the rules, no one else can get him in trouble for it. </p><p>Keith lets out a deep sigh as he removes the jacket then kicks off his boots, leaving him in nothing but his dress slacks and thin black undershirt. The ring Shiro had given Keith for their first anniversary dangles from the chain at his neck, and Keith carefully slips it inside his shirt so the metal lay flush against his chest. </p><p>“You can’t spar, Sir,” Jones says, looking unsure what to do with his hands. </p><p>“Why not?” Keith asks, running his hand through his hair to brush it out of his eyes. The urge to look over and see what Shiro thinks of his teaching is nearly overwhelming but Keith doesn’t want to lose focus, especially not right now. </p><p>“Never mind, Sir.”</p><p>Jones is quiet after that, immediately falling back, as do the other cadets who give them a wide berth. With his experience, Keith has no doubt he’ll win but even he is surprised by how easily it happens. He barely even needs to try, curling Jones and dodging jabs that Keith anticipates easily. Jones is overeager—a show-off with nothing to back it up—and Keith has him on his back in less than five minutes, which is four minutes more than Keith needs but he doesn’t want to embarrass him too bad. </p><p>“Do you yield?” Keith asks, trying not to smirk. </p><p>“Ugh, yes,” Jones grumbles. </p><p>“I didn’t quite catch that, Cadet. I said do you yield?”</p><p>“Yes, Sir. I yield,” Jones grits out, scrambling backward like a crab when Keith releases his grip. </p><p>“So,” Keith starts as he rises, “who wants to tell me what Jones did wrong?”</p><p>“He pissed you off,” Navarro says, twisting one of her long braids around her finger. “Sir,” she adds with mock innocence. </p><p>“Jones didn’t anticipate. He immediately went into the offensive, using up all his energy quickly, and allowing me to easily calculate his next move.”</p><p>“I bet I could beat you, Sir,” one of the quieter kids in the back says. It’s not what Keith expects. Sparring with Jones was supposed to be a one-time thing to show the importance of patience—something Shiro had taught him. </p><p>“Me too,” another cadet pipes up. </p><p>“Class ends in five minutes, I don’t think—”</p><p>“Are you scared to lose to a cadet, <i>Sir</i>?” Jones asks, his shit-eating grin back now that he’s safely across the room with his friends.</p><p>It’s exactly like something Keith would have said as a cadet, and he has a new wave of empathy for some of the nicer instructors who still bore Keith’s wrath solely because they were in a position of authority. </p><p>Before this comment, Keith had every intention of letting the cadets out before the bell to give them an extra few minutes to clean up before dinner. Now he plans to teach them all a lesson.</p><p>“Line up. <i>All of you</i>,” Keith instructs, somehow surprised when every cadet falls into line. </p><p>Keith allows his gaze to drift to Shiro, chest flooding with adrenaline at the sight of Shiro with his legs spread wide and his elbows on his legs, leaning forward. There’s an intensity in his eyes—unmistakable interest and approval—and Keith’s chest fills with pleasure at the knowledge that Shiro is watching him. Keith’s way past pretending he doesn’t love having Shiro’s attention directed his way, and he allows himself a few seconds to revel in this.</p><p>Sure, this is a teaching moment. Keith wants to show the cadets exact how to spar. If it just so happens that he also wants to show off a little bit for Shiro, well no one else needs to know.</p><p>Keith yanks the hair tie off his wrist and pulls his hair back into a small, high ponytail, justifying it under the guise of practicality, and not having his hair in his face. The truth is Keith could take anyone and win, blindfolded, hair in his face or wounded—he’s putting his hair up because he knows how it’ll affect Shiro. </p><p>Sure enough, when Keith looks up Shiro’s got his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Keith’s not ashamed to admit the way his chest puffs up at the undisguised appreciation on Shiro’s face. Shiro likes watching Keith, and Keith, well—he likes to be watched. He sends a casual wink at Shiro before dragging his attention back to his students, forcing himself to focus on them and not Shiro. It’s a herculean task, but Keith’s self-control has improved a lot over the last few years so he manages, more than capable of compartmentalizing his feelings for Shiro as he reverts back into instructor mode.</p><p>One by one, Keith lays each of them on the mat without even breaking a sweat. Some of them definitely try to put what Keith’s been teaching into practice, and Keith rewards that by allowing the spar to drag out under the guise of giving them a chance, even if he knows they won’t win. He’s careful not to hurt any of them—physically, anyway. More than one of them definitely has wounded pride as they shuffle away. </p><p>By the time he’s made his way through the entire class, Keith’s worked up a sweat—his tank top clinging to his body and rivulets of sweat dripping down the back of his neck. They might not have been any real match for Keith, but are still twenty-two of them. </p><p>“Class dismissed. Go shower and eat,” Keith says, waiting until every cadet has left before lifting the hem of his undershirt to wipe the sweat from his face, then tugging out his necklace.</p><p>“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean for class to run so late,” Keith says as he walks to the corner where Shiro is still sitting. </p><p>“That was impressive,” Shiro says, voice unnaturally high.</p><p>Keith shrugs. “They’re sixteen and itching to show off without any actual skill or experience to back it up. It’s not that impressive that I beat them all, since they were all pretty terrible.”</p><p>“Everything you do is impressive, baby.”</p><p>“<i>Shiro</i>,” Keith laughs, ducking his head.</p><p>“It’s true. Shit, Keith. The way you just commanded this room was, well—I’ve never seen anything like it.”</p><p>“I mean you’ve seen me lead the Paladins before, this isn't that different.”</p><p>“The Paladins don’t call you Sir,” Shiro says, his voice going funny again. “And you have a uniform.”</p><p>“You like my uniform, Shiro?” Keith asks, grinning. He wouldn’t be surprised if Shiro does. One night after a little too much Nunvil, Shiro had confessed how much he liked Keith’s Blade uniform and his Paladin one. Keith’s starting to suspect Shiro might have more of a uniform kink than he ever suspected. </p><p>Shiro ducks his head, long strands of soft white hair falling into his eyes. “Yes.”</p><p>It’s cute the way Shiro can still blush over something like this, and Keith’s not one to miss a golden opportunity to see if he can make Shiro blush all over.</p><p>“Well then, it’d be a pity if I didn’t put it back on for you, huh?” Keith says, half joking. The sound Shiro makes, though, gives Keith other ideas. “Oh, you really want me to put it back on?”</p><p>“Only if you want, Keith.” </p><p>It’s such a Shiro way to answer, always more concerned with Keith’s desires—always unwilling to admit what he wants. Lucky for Keith he’s had years learning how to read Shiro’s body language. There’s a faint pink spreading across the bridge of his nose, and he’s got his big hands folded over his lap to hide his cock. </p><p>He definitely wants Keith to put it back on. </p><p>“Just stay here,” Keith says, even though it’s clear Shiro has no ideas about going anywhere. </p><p>He’s quick to jog across the room to retrieve the discarded uniform jacket before returning to stand in front of Shiro. He knows he doesn’t need an excuse to wear it beyond knowing Shiro wants to see him in it, but it’s fun to get Shiro a little hot under the collar. “I’m basically an instructor now, I suppose I should look the part.”</p><p>“A damn good one too,” Shiro says, licking his lips as Keith pulls on the jacket. </p><p>“Thanks,” Keith grins, face blossoming under the praise. “You have no idea how weird it is to have all of them calling me Sir though.”</p><p>Keith laughs as he continues to button up the jacket. It’s not until he’s got the ones at his collar done too that he realizes Shiro didn’t laugh with him. When he looks up Shiro’s got a funny look on his face—lips thinned and jaw clenched. The pink across his nose has gone full red and even the tips of his cute big ears have joined in on the blushing. </p><p>“What?” Keith says, dropping his hands to the side. </p><p>“Nothing,” Shiro answers. </p><p>It’s clearly a lie. Shiro is a horrible liar. </p><p>“No, there’s something,” Keith says, inching closer until he’s standing between Shiro’s spread legs. Shiro audibly gulps, clenching his hands as he slowly drags his gaze up Keith’s body. There’s no mistaking the look in his eyes right now. Yeah, Shiro definitely has a bit of a uniform kink. </p><p>There’s something else too—Keith’s sure of it. He’s just not sure what. If he’s learned anything about Shiro since they finally got together last year,  it’s that Shiro needs a little special handling to help him open up. Lucky for them both, Keith’s always been an expert at handling Shiro.  </p><p>“It’s nothing, baby. You were so good today.”</p><p>“Yeah, I was good, wasn’t I?” Keith grins, reaching out to drag his fingers through Shiro’s bangs. </p><p>Shiro’s eyes flutter shut immediately, mouth falling open and breath stuttering when Keith repeats the action but adds his nails. </p><p>It makes Keith’s heart feel too big for his chest to see how easily Shiro lets all his walls down for Keith. </p><p>“So you really liked watching me teach?” Keith asks, partly because he likes hearing Shiro say it out loud, and partly to figure out what else is going on. </p><p>“God, yes,” Shiro answers, eyes still shut as Keith knocks his knees against the inside of Shiro’s thighs, wedging himself into the V of Shiro’s legs. Shiro’s weak for having his hair played with, and Keith’s not above using that knowledge to loosen Shiro up a little. </p><p>“What did you like about it?” Keith asks. </p><p>Shiro doesn’t answer immediately, snapping his mouth shut as he breathes through his nose. </p><p>“I was sort of nervous. It would make me feel really good if you told me what you liked,” Keith tries. It’s not a lie, Keith was nervous and he does love Shiro’s accolades, but he also knows it's easier for Shiro to talk about how he feels if he thinks it's for someone else. </p><p>“Oh,” Shiro breathes, his big eyes turned on Keith.</p><p>Keith smooths his thumb over one of Shiro’s thick eyebrows before dragging his fingers through his hair once more. It has the desired effect—Shiro’s shoulders going lax and his mouth falling open.</p><p>“What do you like about watching me teach?” Keith asks again, quieter this time.</p><p>“You’re so capable.”</p><p>Keith’s smile turns self satisfied. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, his breathing going heavy as Keith uses his nails on Shiro’s scalp. “The students respect you. They defer to your authority.”</p><p>The synapses in Keith’s brain light up. <i>Oh</i>. It’s not the first time Keith’s suspected something like this. Where Keith has always bucked anyone’s authority beside Shiro’s, Shiro isn’t like that. Shiro has always thrived on the routine and chains of command—always been good at taking orders or doling them out. </p><p>Shiro likes authority.</p><p>Keith’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he wants to be sure.</p><p>“Yeah, they really did. They called me Sir a lot,” he says, watching carefully for Shiro’s reaction. It’s subtle—Shiro’s clearly trying to tamp it down—but Keith knows Shiro better than he knows himself, and he knows exactly what the soft inhale and quiver in his jaw means.</p><p>It’s clear Shiro is having trouble responding. There are dark circles under his eyes from his lack of sleep because he’s been covering everyone else’s classes for two weeks, and along with the words he’s clearly trying to hold back, he’s also fighting off a yawn. If Keith had to guess, Shiro probably hasn’t had anything to eat today besides the piece of toast Keith shoved at him on the way out the door, and pots of shitty Garrison coffee. Shiro’s absolutely shit at taking care of himself, and even worse at establishing any type of boundaries. </p><p>Shiro needs someone else to take control, someone else to take care of him.</p><p>“You’re an amazing teacher too, you know. Everyone loves you.”</p><p>Shiro smiles, arching his head to try and get closer to Keith’s hand. “Thanks, Keith.”</p><p>“You’re always so good at being in charge. But maybe...maybe you don’t want to be. Maybe you want to be on the other side.”</p><p>“Keith?”</p><p>“You can call me, Sir,” Keith tells him.</p><p>It’s a gamble, and one that pays off tenfold. A shudder wracks Shiro’s chest as he inhales sharply—eyes widening and a pink flush spreading down his neck. Keith drags his hand down to cup Shiro’s cheek.</p><p>“You wanna do that, baby? You want me to be in control?”</p><p>Shiro looks like he’s struggling to breathe—eyes squeezed shut as he takes slow, methodical breaths through his nose. </p><p>“It’s okay if you want this. Makes me feel so good to know you trust me, that you respect me. You like making me feel good, don’t you?”</p><p>It’s the right thing to say because Shiro opens his eyes and nods. “Always.”</p><p>“This will make me feel so good,” Keith says, stroking his thumb over Shiro’s cheekbone. </p><p>“Yeah?” Shiro asks, hands clenched in his lap so tightly Keith’s afraid Shiro’s prosthetic might bruise his flesh hand.</p><p>“Fuck yes,” Keith huffs. </p><p>“Oh,” Shiro whispers, some of his tension visibly dissipating. It’s serotonin shot directly to Keith’s brain. He’s not sure what it means that what gets Shiro off the most is being able to make Keith feel good, and what gets Keith hot is being the one person Shiro allows to take care of him, but it works.</p><p>“This is next level hot, baby. I can see the way you’re looking at me, how much you like what you see. Don’t you?”</p><p>Shiro doesn’t bother denying it, they both know it’s true.</p><p>“Yes,” he answers, finally moving his hands out of his lap to reveal his obviously erect cock tenting the front of his joggers.</p><p>A thrill shoots through Keith. It’s been nearly a year and he’s not over the way it makes him feel to know that out of anyone in the entire universe, Keith is the one Shiro wants. Keith is the one who makes Shiro hard. He wonders how much harder he can make him.</p><p>“Bet you’d like to let me be in control for a little bit, huh? Let me call the shots.”</p><p>Shiro’s eyes go hooded as he licks his lips and nods. </p><p>“Good boy,” Keith praises, sliding his hand up to tangle it in Shiro’s hair once more.</p><p>A soft whimper falls from Shiro’s lips at the praise, urging Keith on. “You’re always such a good boy, always taking care of everyone else. You work so hard don’t you, baby?”</p><p>“I do what I need to,” Shiro chokes out, metal fingers digging into his thigh as he spreads his legs.</p><p>“Nuh uh, no lying. Tell me the truth. You work hard, don’t you?”</p><p>Shiro inhales so deeply through his nose that for a fleeting second Keith worries he’s gone too far.</p><p>“Yes,” Shiro utters, voice barely above a whisper. “I work so hard.”</p><p>The confession sends a jolt right to Keith’s heart, flooding him with equal parts arousal and pride. There was a time where Shiro wouldn’t have been able to say that out loud, even to Keith. He’s come so far. They both have.</p><p>“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you.”</p><p>The choked-off sound Shiro makes is a lot for Keith to handle, something halfway between a sob and a moan. Shiro’s always wound so tight, even all this time since the war ended—he’s always holding back. Or, almost always. There are times where the walls he keeps up crumble—only when he’s with Keith. </p><p>Sometimes he lets go. Keith wants him to let go.</p><p>“You’re so beautiful,” Keith tells him.</p><p>“You are,” Shiro counters. “God, Keith, you’re so perfect. Look at you.”</p><p>It’s easy to see what he’s doing. Shiro’s always more comfortable when he’s the one handing out the praise, something Keith will never object to. But Keith also knows how much Shiro loves having  it directed his way as well—at least when it comes from Keith. When other people praise Shiro, he grins good-naturedly and shrugs it off. When Keith does it, the tips of his ears go red and his cock goes hard.</p><p>“Yeah, you like looking at me, don’t you?”</p><p>Shiro nods, neck arched as he drags his eyes up Keith’s body. As far as Keith is concerned, the uniform is a little itchy and stupid, but he would wear it every goddamn day for Shiro. Shiro, who isn’t hiding the hunger in his eyes as his eyes rake over the shimmering golden buttons and the lapels at his shoulders. One day Keith’s going to figure out what exactly it is about seeing him in a uniform that gets Shiro so hot and bothered, but for today it’s enough to know he likes it.</p><p>“You like when I touch you too?” Keith murmurs, letting the tips of his nails slide over Shiro’s scalp and down over his forehead. “You love when I get my hands on you, don’t you?”</p><p>“Yes,” Shiro answers, voice pitched low and sweet.</p><p>“How would you like it if I fucked you while I wore this?” Keith asks, smoothing a hand down the tailored uniform jacket, purposely giving one of the buttons a little twist. </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Keith.” </p><p>Shiro’s so hard now there’s a wet spot staining his sweats. Keith knows he’s landed in the sweet spot.</p><p>“Not Keith, Sir.”</p><p>Shiro’s fingers dig into his thighs so hard Keith worries they’ll bruise, so he bends down, removing his hand from Shiro’s hair to smooth it over roughened knuckles. Keith’s going to fuck every single ounce of that tension of of Shiro.</p><p>“I’m going to give you an order and you’re going to follow it, got it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Shiro gets out.</p><p>Keith can’t contain his smirk. “Yes, what?”</p><p>The air hangs thick between them as Shiro’s mouth falls open, his pretty lips forming the words Keith knows he’s been dying to say. </p><p>“Yes, Sir.”</p><p>“Good boy,” Keith praises, giving Shiro’s hands a gentle squeeze. The urge to lay Shiro out on the practice mat and fuck him right now is nearly overwhelming. It’s only the knowledge that Keith won’t be able to fuck Shiro the way Shiro so clearly wants, the way he <i>needs</i>, without lube, that stops him.</p><p>The wet spot on his pants is even bigger now, staining the sweats with his arousal. He’s so hard and Keith hasn’t even touched him yet. Fuck. </p><p>“You’re going to leave this room and go down the hallway to your office while I lock up. Then you’re going to open the bottom drawer of your desk where I know you hide the lube, and you’re going to drop your pants to your ankles and get yourself ready for me.”</p><p>Shiro bites down on his bottom lip hard enough he nearly draws blood. </p><p>“Careful,” Keith murmurs, thumbing over the bruised lip with extra tenderness. “You think you can do that? Think you can use those big, beautiful hands of yours to fuck yourself open for me?”</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>“That wasn’t an answer, baby.”</p><p>Shiro swallows, body taut as a bow. He needs this so fucking bad. He needs what only Keith can give him, and oh boy, is Keith going to give it to him.</p><p> “Yes, Sir. I can do that. Is that all, Sir?” </p><p>“One more thing,” Keith says, rising. “Don’t lock the door while you wait for me.”</p><p>Shiro’s eyes widen. “But someone might come in.”</p><p>“Are you questioning my authority, sweetheart?” Keith asks, tugging the uniform sleeve down to cover his wrist before dragging the stiff cotton down the side of Shiro’s neck.</p><p>“No, Sir.”</p><p>“Good. Then you’re dismissed.”</p><p>Shiro doesn’t move right away, and for a few seconds Keith debates making sure this is really what Shiro wants, but then Shiro is leaping out of his seat so quickly he sends the chair onto its side. There’s a bashful look on his face when he realizes what he’s done, and Keith barely holds back his fond laugher.</p><p>“I’ll take care of that. You’re dismissed, Shiro. You have work to do if you’re going to be ready for the fucking I plan to give you.”</p><p>Shiro clenches his jaw and nods before leaving without another word. Keith barely manages to keep his hands at his sides as he watches the line of Shiro’s back as he retreats. He knows it's just the same Garrison-issued sweats and t-shirt that everyone has, but on Shiro they look indecent—his ass moving as he walks and the cotton stretched around the girth of his thighs, not to the mention the way to cotton of the t-shirt is stretched to its breaking point over Shiro’s broad shoulders.</p><p>Keith waits until Shiro is gone to shove his knuckles into his mouth and groan. Patience is not one of Keith’s natural strong suits, but it’s a skill he’s cultivated over years of necessity. A skill which he puts into full practice as he resists the urge to touch himself through his pants or run after Shiro like an overeager puppy.</p><p>Watching Shiro walk out of the room when Keith wants nothing more than to kiss and touch and suck and make Shiro feel good feels strange. It’s also oddly exciting. They’ve toyed with Keith being a little more in control first, that’s not exactly new. But the uniform and the <i>Sir</i> thing, that’s new. The waiting is new too. Realistically, the odds of Shiro being caught fingering himself open in his office are less than one percent. Every other instructor is gone from this part of the building by now, and every cadet is in the mess hall of their rooms. But just because the odds are low doesn’t mean they’re not there, and the idea that someone might catch beloved instructor and Garrison golden boy Takashi Shirogane with his sweats around his ankles waiting for Keith to fuck him, makes Keith harder than he’s ever been in his life.</p><p>He makes quick work of cleaning up the room—rolling the extra sparring mats into the corner and stacking the extra chairs by the wall. All the while he thinks about Shiro, thinks about what sounds he might be trying to hold back and whether he’s got his eyes on the door waiting for Keith, or whether it’ll be his perfect ass that Keith sees first.</p><p>Keith finishes cleaning up in record time, pausing by the door with his hand hovering over the light switch. There’s a fine line between making Shiro wait and Keith losing his mind if he doesn’t get his cock in Shiro. It’s so easy to imagine the way Shiro’s mouth might be falling open right now, or the way he’s probably spreading his legs as his own lube slicked fingers slip inside his body. For all Shiro is patient with Keith, he’s impatient when he touches himself. He’s probably already got two fingers in there, the thick digits stretching his hole open. </p><p>The wondering proves to be too much for Keith, whose cock is so hard now it hurts, constricted by his perfectly tailored uniform pants. He is acutely aware that if he doesnt get to Shiro’s office soon, his cock will be so hard he won’t be able to walk.</p><p>As expected, Keith passes no one on his way out of the training room and down the long hallway to Shiro’s office. He makes one left, then a right, until he reaches the dimly lit hall. There’s one office occupied, light spilling out beneath the closed door and as Keith’s fingers curl around the doorknob he feels precome leak from his cock.</p><p>He opens the door quickly to find Shiro leaning over his desk chair, his metal fingers digging into the luxe leather seat as his flesh fingers move in and out of his own body. He’s got his eyes shut tightly and his mouth hangs open as he whimpers quietly. He’s holding everything in, trying to keep all that desire from bubbling over. </p><p>Keith wants to make him scream.</p><p>“Shirogane,” he says, pitching his voice low the way he does when he needs one of the cadets to pay attention to him. There’s a moment of panic where Keith wonders if he’s gone too far, but that moment is fleeting.</p><p>One second Keith is on the verge of wondering what the fuck he’s doing, and the next Shiro’s moaning, actually moaning. Dopamine floods Keith’s brain. </p><p>“Your technique was lacking. I think you need a little hands-on help,” Keith says, straightening his shoulders as he walks into the room and shuts the down behind him. He doesn’t lock it. “Shirt and pants off.”</p><p>Shiro doesn’t hesitate to obey, kicking his sneakers off followed by his sweats and boxers, then he yanks his t-shirt off and adds it to the pile leaving him standing there in the middle of the room. He stands tall, shoulders back and attention on Keith.</p><p>As much as Keith wants to stalk across the room and lay Shiro out over his desk and fuck him senseless, he also wants to revel in this moment. </p><p>“At attention, Shirogane.”</p><p>Shiro’s inhale is sharp, his cock bobbing and precome leaking out of the glistening cockhead as he stands at attention.</p><p>“Good boy,” Keith praises, slowly inching closer. </p><p>It’s not as if Keith has seen Shiro naked hundreds of times, but it's a sight he will never be over, and it’s never been quite like this. Shiro’s physicality was born from his need to fight and win, not vanity. He doesn’t see the rippling muscles or scars on his body the way Keith does.</p><p>“Just look at you, baby,” Keith whispers, sneaking out a hand to trail his fingertips over the flat of Shiro’s belly. His stomach flutters beneath the touch but he remains unmoving. Shiro’s always been good at taking orders, so Keith shouldn’t be surprised that it translates here as well.</p><p>“You can look all you want, Sir,” Shiro says, the quiver in voice betraying how tenuous his control must be right now.</p><p>“I can, can’t I? Because you’re mine, aren’t you?” Keith murmurs as he moves to stand behind Shiro. </p><p>The view from behind is equally glorious. Shiro’s back makes Keith feel crazy, and more than once he’s given in to his most primal urges to lick and bite. There was even one memorable occasion a few weeks back where Keith sat on Shiro’s back and jerked off, covering Shiro’s shoulders and upper back in his release. Keith’s not sure if it’s something about being Galra, or maybe just something that’s him, but he’s always been a little feral about marking his territory where Shiro is concerned—hickeys and sometimes even small bite marks hidden beneath Shiro’s clothes.</p><p>Some of those marks are still visible, but they’re fading now. Keith reaches out to draw his fingers over the last lingering mark at the back of Shiro’s right bicep, just above the metal of the prosthetic—tracing over the shell of where his lips were last week. </p><p>Eager to get an even better view, he moves back a few inches to fully appreciate the sigh of Shiro’s muscled shoulders and itty bitty waist, dragging his palm down the curve of Shiro’s spine as his eyes trail over sinuous muscle and scar tissue. It was a long road to get to a place where Shiro allows Keith to look like this without shying away from the attention to the parts of his body that he is most insecure about. Keith’s so fucking proud of him.</p><p>“So beautiful,” Keith praises as he adds his other hand so that both his palms cascade down Shiro’s lower back on either side, stopping just above the swell of his ass.  </p><p>Beneath his hands, tension coils in Shiro’s body and Keith can physically feel the way Shiro is working to stay in control. The pitch of his breathing has shifted, leaving Keith with no question about just how worked up Shiro is, even if he’s using every ounce of self-control he possesses to try to and hide how aroused he is. </p><p>“Spread your legs, baby,” Keith commands, his cock throbbing at how easily Shiro obeys.</p><p>Shiro widens his stance, feet spread wide enough to reveal a bit of lube on the inside of his thigh.</p><p>“Someone was a messy boy,” Keith says, swiping up the glob of lube. “Are you a messy boy?”</p><p>The sound Shiro makes is nothing short of a sob and between the V of his spread legs Keith sees a small drop of precome fall to the floor. He’s seen Shiro in a lot of states of arousal but never anything close to this.</p><p>“That didn’t sound like an answer, sweetheart. I said, are you a messy boy?”</p><p>“Yes,” Shiro gets out, voice unnaturally low. “I’m a messy boy, Sir.”</p><p>“That’s right, you are. You’re my messy boy and I’m going to make you even messier. You want that? You want to feel the cotton of my uniform against your naked flesh as I make a mess of you?”</p><p>“Please, Sir,” Shiro whines. Keith doesn’t need to see his face to know his eyebrows are probably furrowed, or that his stomach must be fluttering. </p><p>“Please, Sir, what?” Keith asks, hoping he’s not pushing too far.</p><p>“Please ruin me. Mark me. Fuck me. Show me who is in charge, Sir.”</p><p>The words go straight to Keith’s cock and it's a miracle he doesn't shoot off in his pants from Shiro’s words. He’s said something similar once before, but it wasn’t as blunt, and there sure as fuck was no <i>Sir</i> involved. Keith’s starting to think maybe Shiro’s not the only one who likes this, because every time Keith hears that three letter word uttered in Shiro’s honey-sweet voice, he gets harder.</p><p>“Elbows on the table, sweetheart. I want your legs wide and your ass in the air.”</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Shiro trembles, practically kicking his desk chair out of the way before collapsing over his desk.</p><p>It’s a sight that Keith knows is going to burned into his brain until the day he dies—Shiro bent over his desk, thighs trembling and and lube dripping out of his ass as he quietly waits to be fucked. He turns his head, cheek pressed into the solid wood of the desk as his eyes seek out Keith’s.</p><p>“You’re so gorgeous,” Keith says, giving in to temptation and resting one hand on each of Shiro’s ass cheeks. “Anyone would die to get a sight of you spread out like this, aching to be fucked. But no one else can see you like this, can they? You’d never let anyone else see you like this.”</p><p>“Never,” Shiro whispers, his toes curling into the rug as Keith gives the cheeks a squeeze.</p><p>“That’s right, baby. Never. Because you’re mine.”</p><p>“Yours,” Shiro agrees, even though it wasn’t a question.</p><p>“My good boy. You love to be good for me, don’t you?” Keith asks, smoothing some of the extra lube between Shiro’s cheeks over his fingers before running them around Shiro’s rim. It flutters under his touch, two of his fingers slipping in easily.</p><p>Shiro nods, eyes half shut and his bottom lip between his teeth again. He looks close to losing it and Keith knows if he doesn’t get on with it, one or both of them is going to come before Keith gets the chance to fuck Shiro.</p><p>“Good, then I’m going to tell you what I want you to do and you’re going to do it for me. Can you do that? Can you do what I ask and make me happy?”</p><p>“Yes. Anything for you, Sir,” he chokes out as he wiggles his hips. Between his legs his cock hangs heavy, precome leaking out of the tip and the length of it flushed red. Keith itches to touch so he does, making sure the sleeve of his uniform grazes the sensitive inside of Shiro’s thigh as he reaches through Shiro’s legs to give his cock a firm squeeze.</p><p>Keith can’t see Shiro’s face but he can hear the metal of Shiro’s prosthetic scratching the surface of the desk. </p><p>“Fuck, you’re so eager. Look at the way your body quivers for me and I barely touched you,” Keith says, leaning forward so the buttons of his jacket lay against Shiro’s ass.</p><p>Shiro turns his head so his forehead is pressed to the desk, back arching as every muscle in his body goes tight with the sheer force of control needed for him to not fuck into Keith’s hand. He could. Keith would never tell him no. But he’s being so good for Keith, waiting for permission.</p><p>Good boys deserve rewards.</p><p>Despite the temptation to give Shiro’s cock a few more purposeful strokes, Keith resists. He can tell Shiro is close and he wants Shiro coming while Keith is buried inside his perfect ass and not a second sooner. </p><p>“I’m going to give you everything you deserve, baby. I just need one thing from you,” Keith tells him, dropping Shiro’s cock and rising up.</p><p>It takes obvious effort for Shiro to turn his face towards Keith, his bangs plastered to his forehead and his eyes blown wide with lust. He looks like he’s losing his mind. There’s also definitely a large gash in the desk from Shiro’s metal fingers. Keith makes a mental note to buy him a nice pencil holder to hide it. </p><p>“What, Sir?” Shiro asks, his voice gravelly and rough. He sounds like he’s been screaming but Keith knows he hasn’t, Shiro’s barely made a sound. Something Keith plans to remedy. </p><p>“I want,” Keith begins, making sure Shiro is watching as he begins to undo his belt, “you to be noisy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Noisy?” Shiro chokes.</p><p>“Yes. <i>Noisy</i>. Everyone is gone for the night. It’s just you and me here, but you’re holding back. I want you to be a good boy and let it out.” He pauses, jangling the metal of his belt and watching the way Shiro’s ass clenches as his gaze drops to Keith’s crotch exactly where he wants it. </p><p>Keith is slow and methodical as he pulls the leather out of the buckle, even slower as he removes the belt from its loops. All the while Shiro watches, barely breathing as he trembles on the desk.</p><p>“I’m gonna fuck you so good and hard you won’t be able to look at that desk without thinking about me,” Keith tells him as he tugs the zipper down, biting back his own whimper as he gets a hand on his cock for the first time. He’s so hard, the tip leaking and his boxers wet. “I’m gonna fuck you so good every time you close your eyes I’m the only person you think about.” </p><p>“It’s always only you,” Shiro whispers, and the fact that even this far gone he’s got enough coherence to make sure Keith knows how special he is makes Keith want to scream. Shiro is perfect—so fucking perfect—and Keith loves him so goddamn much. If Shiro wanted the moon, Keith’s pretty sure he’d find a way to bring that motherfucker down to him right now if he asked. </p><p>“Look at how hard you make me. I’m aching for it, aching for <i>you</i>,” Keith tells him, extracting his cock from his pants without taking them off. He’s never fucked Shiro with all his clothes on, and it’s a lot more arousing than Keith might have guessed.</p><p>“Fuck,” Shiro sobs, rocking his hips into the air. His cock swings between his legs, dripping on the carpet.</p><p>“I’m going to take my cock out and watch it drag in and out of that perfect ass of yours, do it so hard your feet lift off the ground with every single thrust. And I want to <i>hear</i> how I make you feel. Do you think you can do that?”</p><p>Shiro doesn’t say anything but his knuckles are turning white.</p><p>“Nuh uh, baby. <i>Noisy</i>,” he repeats, dragging his fingers down the cleft of Shiro’s ass before spreading his cheeks wide and thumbing over his hole. “Let me hear how much you want me and I’ll fuck you.”</p><p>He knows Shiro can be noisy, but he also knows Shiro spent years training himself not to be. It’s a caveat of having lived so much time in captivity. Shiro learned when to take up more space to secure his survival and when he needed to take up none. </p><p>Though he’s safe now—has been for years—his first instinct is still to stay quiet. There’ve been times when Shiro lets go—when the sounds slip past his lips. Keith loves those times.</p><p>“Come on, pretty boy, let me hear how good I make you feel,” Keith says, bending himself over Shiro’s back so his next words are whispered against the side of Shiro’s neck. “Please.”</p><p>A broken sound rips out of Shiro’s body as he turns his head, shoving his face into the desk. It can’t be comfortable and for one heart stopping second Keith worries this is too much, but then Shiro lets out a sound that has every one of Keith’s nerve endings lighting up like a firework. It’s not just a moan, it’s more than that—something guttural and deep that echoes in the empty room.</p><p>“Want,” Shiro chokes, words mumbled into the wood. “Need.”</p><p>“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” Keith soothes, smoothing his hands over Shiro’s upper arms. </p><p>He makes the sound again, louder this time, and Keith is sinking his teeth into Shiro’s shoulder before he consciously decides to do it. It’s not hard enough to break skin. He’d never hurt Shiro ever, but it’s hard enough to leave a mark.</p><p>Shiro picks up his hand and slams it against the desk, the lamp skittering sideways and falling off the desk so that they're half-bathed in darkness.</p><p>“Mine,” Keith grunts, mouthing over the teeth mark with his tongue before covering it with his lips and sucking hard enough to leave a mark that will linger even after the one from his teeth fades.</p><p>“Yours, yours, yours,” Shiro crows, arching back against Keith enough that Keith’s cock slides against his entrance. The position’s not good enough for any real friction or penetration but the feeling of his cock slipping into Shiro’s lube-slicked cheeks as Shiro wantonly moans is enough to send Keith’s head spinning. </p><p>“Yes, mine. My good boy,” Keith praises, peeling himself off Shiro’s back.</p><p>There’s a soft whine of displeasure and it takes Keith a second to realize it came from Shiro. </p><p>“Shhh, I’m right here. You’ve been so good for me, always so good. Now you’re going to get what you deserve.”</p><p>Anything Shiro might want to say is lost in the noises he makes, as Keith adjusts his jacket enough to grab a hold of the base of his cock. Shiro’s straining his neck enough he’s going to get a crick in it, eyes wide and hungry as Keith spreads his ass open and guides his cock in.</p><p>As turned on and prepared as Shiro is there’s very little resistance and the cockhead slips past the tight ring of muscle easily. Keith could slam his hips and fuck Shiro raw and he’s be so ready, but that’s not what either of them want.</p><p>Shiro wants to be taken care of, and that’s exactly what Keith plans to do.</p><p>He lets his thumb stroke circles over Shiro’s lower back as he guides his cock in slowly. Every inch is the world’s most delicious torture, tingles coursing up Keith’s spine as Shiro’s moans flood his ears.</p><p>“Relax,” Keith murmurs once his hips are flush against Shiro’s ass, the undone zipper from his pants wedged up against Shiro’s flesh. </p><p>“Not possible,” Shiro wheezes, practically clawing at the desk now. </p><p>Experimentally Keith rolls his hips in circles, watching the way the open zipper presses into the flesh. Shiro’s noisy enough that Keith doesn’t bother asking if he liked it since it's more than clear he did. He does it again, rocking backways enough that he’s sure Shiro can feel the stiff cotton of his pants rubbing against his bare flesh with his thrust. </p><p>It’s not long before the slow, languid pace Keith began with gives way to something frenzied and desperate. Try as he might to draw it out and make it last, Keith’s only human—well half, anyway—and Shiro spread out like this moaning and groaning louder than he ever has before breaks Keith’s resolve.</p><p>He meant to take it slow, to fuck Shiro over the desk until he was relaxed and boneless. Instead, Shiro’s damn near screaming as Keith fucks into him so hard that not only do Shiro’s feet lift off the floor, the entire fucking desk moves.</p><p>If Shiro notices he says nothing. He just keeps making noises—grunts and groans and whines and whimpers and moans so overtly sexual and needy that Keith nearly bites a hole in his tongue. It’s a miracle he manages to last as long as he does—desperately trying to hold his orgasm back but unable to when Shiro whimpers <i>Keith</i>.</p><p>Of all the things Shiro’s said tonight, it proves to be the one word that ruins him.</p><p>Before he can stop it, Keith’s orgasm hits him and he drops forward, burying his face in the back of Shiro’s neck and rutting against him as he rides it out. The part of his brain that’s not  blissed-out from fucking reminds him that he wasn’t supposed to come first, and Keith removes himself from the comfort of Shiro’s back to slide down to the ground.</p><p>“What the—”</p><p>“Turn around,” Keith intructs, cock hanging out of his pants and his jacket wrinkled as he sits back on his heels.</p><p>Slowly Shiro complies, lifting himself up onto his elbows before turning around. Keith knew Shiro was wrecked from the sounds he made, but to see it in his face—the wide eyes and mussed-up hair and heaving chest—is something else entirely.</p><p>Shiro’s entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat, his cock hanging heavy as it drips against his thigh. There’s a tremble in his lips and a tension in the way he holds his body. He’s close. So close.</p><p>“Good boys get rewards, Shiro.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean, Sir,” Shiro says, fingers wiggling at his sides.</p><p>“I think you do. I know that look in your eyes. You know you want to, sweetheart. Do it.”</p><p>Shiro makes a desperate, choked-off sound as he scrambles to grab his cock. Keith opens his mouth to praise him again but he’s too slow. All it takes are two firm strokes and then Shiro’s coming in thick spurts all over Keith’s face and his jacket. Shiro’s not the only one who is a messy boy anymore.</p><p>“Fuck,” Shiro chokes, giving his cock a few more firm strokes as he milks out every last drop of come onto Keith’s face. It’s thick and warm and the primal part of Keith’s brain preens at being marked like this. </p><p>“Holy shit,” Shiro groans, dropping to his knees in front of Keith.</p><p>“You’re so perfect,” Keith murmurs, reaching out to cup the side of Shiro’s face. He looks close to passing out, his legs still trembling even in a seated position. </p><p>He’s so close their knees are pressed together but it’s not close enough, so Keith pats his lap, expecting Shiro to protest that he’s too heavy. Instead, Shiro scoots forward until he’s seated on top of Keith’s thighs. He’s a solid weight and Keith fucking loves it.</p><p>“Good boy.”</p><p>“Oh,” Shiro huffs, ducking his head. “Thank you.”</p><p>“I can’t believe after what we just did, that’s the thing that makes you blush,” Keith says with a grin, pushing Shiro’s sweaty bangs off his forehead.</p><p>Shiro shrugs, clearly a little embarrassed. </p><p>“I want to kiss you but I’m a mess and—”</p><p>“Kiss me.”</p><p>Keith doesn’t wait to be told twice, tangling his fingers in Shiro’s hair as he crashes their lips together, the taste of Shiro’s release mixing on their tongues as they kiss. When they finally break apart they’re both panting, and there’s a bit of come dripping from Shiro’s lip. He’s a mess and Keith wants nothing more than to guide him into a long, hot bath and drag him to bed.</p><p>“How are we gonna get back to our room?” Shiro asks, brushing his knuckles down the side of Keith’s face.</p><p>“I have an idea,” Keith says, pursing his lips and letting out a long, low whistle.</p><p>Less than five seconds later Kosmo pops into existence beside them, his head cocked to the side as he stares at them in bewilderment. Contrary to what the other Paladins might think, Keith has never had a psychic connection with his space wolf, but he doesn't need to in order to read the judgement in Kosmo’s eyes. Then again, it's not the first time Keith’s been grateful to have access to a teleporting space wolf to get him and Shiro out of sticky situations.</p><p>“Hey boy, think you can take us back to the apartment?”</p><p>Kosmo sniffs the air as if he knows exactly what they’ve been up to, but he doesn’t disappear so Keith takes that as an affirmative, wrapping one arm securely around Shiro’s waist as he fists the other one in Kosmo’s fur. One second they’re on the floor of Shiro’s office, and the next they’re safely back in the middle of the bedroom Keith and Shiro share off base. </p><p>“Good boy,” Keith tells Kosmo, patting his side. </p><p>Kosmo lets out a yap before meandering over to the massive dog bed in the corner and plopping down.</p><p>“So,” Shiro whispers, hands moving to the front of Keith’s now very ruined uniform, “do we have permission to shower?”</p><p>Keith snorts out a laugh, the question seems so different in the safety of their room now. “Yes.”</p><p>“You know I love you, right?” Shiro asks, continuing to undo the buttons. </p><p>Keith’s chest thumps in his heart, too big for his ribcage. “Yeah, Shiro. I know.”</p><p>“Good,” Shiro breathes, pushing the jack off Keith’s shoulders. </p><p>“Yeah,” Keith echoes, “good.”</p><p>Unexpectedly Shiro pulls him into a hug, arms wrapped around Keith tightly and Keith’s ear pressed snug against Shiro’s chest. Keith closes his eyes and focuses on the steady thump of his heartbeat as Shiro tangles a hand in the back of Keith’s hair and holds him close.</p><p>Soon they’ll need to shower and rest, but for now, this is enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come scream about Sheith with me on <a href="https://twitter.com/goldentruth813">Twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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